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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139567">the death of a rose</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/pistolet/pseuds/pistolet'>pistolet</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Death, Gen, Possible Character Death, post Endgame</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:42:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,139</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139567</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/pistolet/pseuds/pistolet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>when the widow finally comes face to face with death, she knows this is the right time, the right place. she's at peace.<br/>this is post endgame in the situation that clint was the one to die on vormir, not natasha.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the death of a rose</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>24th December 2024 </p><p>it was always cold this time of the year, the temperature rarely rose above zero, but what else can you expect from a place so far away from the rest of the world, so secluded, void of light, warmth, happiness. it was late, though the sun had set hours ago, it chose only to make an appearance for seven of the long twenty-four hours in a day, and even then, it offered no warmth, the only duty it served was as a light to those who dared to venture out during the winter months. And that wasn’t many. The only light left was that of the moon, but it was hard to make out how large it was through the thick covering of clouds that occupied most of the sky. From these clouds fell snow; large flakes that stuck to the ground and gave the area a novelty look, like something you’d find on a postcard, or in a souvenir store, but then again, the red square always seemed to look like that. From lenins mausolem to st. basils cathedral, the whole place was picture perfect, no matter the season.</p><p>she supposed there was worse places to die, like at the hand of a mad titan, or on the planes or vormir, at least here she had a little time to herself, to think, before she slipped away. vormir. That’s one memory she couldn’t escape, the stubbornness of her best friend was the reason she was here today, she had so much to thank him for, she owed him her life, and yet he took his own to keep her safe. The memory ached in the back of her mind, she almost wishes she could just . . forget, but it’s the last image she has of him, she can’t lose that. He wasn’t the only person she had to thank. The rest of the team had helped, despite her reluctance to see them as anything else other than co-workers, she had grown fond of them, they were her own little family.</p><p>she still had time. not a lot. but some. She could quite easily call for help, shield would send someone to her location, and they might just get there in time, but she won’t. </p><p>blood seeped from the hole in her chest, good shot, she thought to herself, having hit just shy of what she guessed was her aorta. of course, it had broken a rib or two on the way through her, puncturing a lung too. it was a clean shot, which was what impressed her the most. usually, she delt with people who only just knew how to handle a gun, they would aim blindly and just try to hit anything. a terrible approach really.</p><p>this whole situation was her own fault, she was sloppy, she got hit, and only just managed to get away, determined not to die at the hands of some low life killer she had been tasked with taking down. in the half hour or so since the shot, the blood had covered nearly all of her leather suit. it was warm, not that it mattered much anyway, the biting winds had already made their way to her skin and she was no longer shivering, just numb. </p><p>there was something peaceful about it, dying in the heart of the city. she was sure she might’ve visited when she was younger, with her parents, her actual parents, before they left. she doesn’t remember anything about them, she was so young, barely a year old when their building caught fire and the ceiling gave way. she was taken in by ivan. her then father figure, he took her from her mother’s arms as the flames swallowed the building.</p><p>so, as she sits there, life slowly leaving her body, she tries to imagine what it would’ve been like to have a family, to be brought up by people who love her, to be shown how to love herself. instead, the life she got was unfair, cruel, but she didn’t know any better. the red room was efficient in what they did, they kept the girls isolated from the rest of the world, minimising chances of influence from the outside world. what they were taught there was all they knew. it worked, not that she knew at the time, she was entirely focused on pleasing her. the woman in charge. the one they called ‘mother’. it was the furthest thing from a motherly relationship, she offered no words of comfort, she never spoke to the girls unless she was scolding them, she was simply there to oversee everything. natasha had always hated her, she could always feel when her eyes were boring into the back of her head. however, there was no time to spare any thought to her now.</p><p>she managed to adjust herself, shifting the weight from one arm to the other, hissing as her wound is moved against its will. she can’t have long left, her body aches and even after that slight movement she finds it hard to catch her breath. it hurts too, more than she’d like to admit, but again, the cold helps with that, so it’s more of a constant ache now. had the wound been less serious, then her body might’ve had time to recover, the serum she was given all those years ago would’ve had a chance to work, but things are a little more complicated.</p><p>her head falls back against the wall, and she tilts her face up so the flakes of snow can land on her skin, it’s strangely soothing, and quiet too. her gaze shifts again, and she looks out through the snow to the lights illuminating the square. it was christmas tomorrow, she thinks, her brain is fuzzy and she’s getting slow, but there are lights strung across each building, over ever window, door and tree. she had never really understood christmas, there was too much build up for a single day of celebration, but the lights were nice, it made for a good distraction as blood continued to seep through her suit.</p><p>by now, the clouds had shifted, and the moon had made an appearance and rays of the light hit the ground in the square. she found herself smiling then, small, weak but there. if she was going to go, then this would be the way. no one was worrying about her, she would have no more missions, she wouldn’t have to kill anyone else, she would be with clint again. her time had come, she could feel her heart slow, her body closing down, she was no longer fighting, it would happen, and she couldn’t stop it. </p><p>there was one final shaky breath. one last second to remember. then nothing. her world went black. she was at peace.</p>
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